


collection of comic drabbles

by kiyala



Series: shorter and arguably sweeter [1]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Community: comicdrabbles, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-10 03:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles written for the comicdrabbles community on LJ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. have it your way.

**Author's Note:**

> written for challenge 002 - fingers

“I’m trying to type.”

“I’m aware of that.”

Peter sighs, pulling his hands out of Tony’s grip, getting back to work. There's still a page worth of data that he needs to enter into the statistical software to get the figures for his latest experiment. Tony doesn’t seem particularly interested in letting him do what he’s supposed to.

“You realise you’re paying me for this, right?” Peter asks. “Lots of funding money going into this big project? That I’m trying to work on? Right now?”

“You think that’s actually going to bother me,” Tony says, amused. “Cute.”

“Mr. Stark…” Peter begins, moving to push Tony’s face away. He stops short when Tony wraps his lips around the tip of Peter’s index finger. 

“Mm, I like it when you call me _Mr. Stark_.” Tony gives him a Chesire grin, taking hold of Peter’s wrist and licking the pads of his fingers. “You were saying, Parker?”

All the blood in Peter’s body rushes decidedly south, especially when Tony sucks his index and middle fingers down to the second knuckle. He lets out a loud, shaky sigh and can _feel_ Tony smirk, the cocky bastard.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

“I always do.”


	2. if you want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for challenge 003 - dancing

“I really don’t understand why I have to be here,” Peter mutters, for perhaps the tenth time that night. He fiddles with his tie until Tony smacks his hand away, smoothing the strip of fabric back into place.

“Like I already told you,” Tony replies, “if I’m going to suffer through a night of this, I’m going to make sure that I get _something_ out of it.”

“So that’s why you’re plying me with drinks.” Taking a sip of his martini, Peter makes a face. “Have I mentioned how much I hate black-tie events?”

“You might have brought it up, one or two times. Or five.” Tony leans against the railing of the balcony they’re on, looking down at the open area beneath them. “It could be worse. I could be making you dance.”

With one look at the couples swaying on the dance floor, Peter shudders. He knows Tony’s far too smart to actually drag him out into the dance floor when they’re out in public like this. Peter also knows Tony well enough have a pretty good idea of exactly what kind of dancing he’s imagining right now.

“You know,” Peter leans over, speaking right into Tony’s ear, “you really didn’t have to drag me out here to guarantee that you’d end up enjoying your night. You could have told me to wait in your bed for you. I would’ve done that.”

Tony clears his throat and immediately takes another sip of his scotch. “Well, I could have dragged you out here to watch you fidget in a tux that fits perfectly in all the right places.”

This makes Peter grin. He’s worn this particular suit before, and every time he does, it ends up in a crumpled heap at the foot of Tony’s bed. He takes half a step closer, letting their sides press against each other. “You know what we could be doing right now? We could be in your room with you stripping me out of this suit, instead of avoiding all the people you can’t be bothered to talk to. You’ve made your appearance. Nobody would be surprised if you left. They’d just assume you found…”

“A smart-ass flexible brunet to take home and fuck through the mattress?” Tony suggests. 

Feigning indifference, Peter doesn’t move away from where he’s pressed up against Tony.

“Yeah. If you want.”

Tony shakes his head, grinning. “Let’s go.”


	3. you have the best ideas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for challenge 004 - dominance

What most people tend to forget when they’re looking at Peter is the fact that if he ever really wanted to, he’d be able to break you without even blinking. 

Sure, he’s far too _careful_ for that to actually happen, because he would hate himself forever. But Tony Stark is the kind of man who has a certain value for knowledge, and he has _never_ forgotten about Peter’s strength.

Not when it can be so much _fun_. 

A lesser man would probably take issue at kneeling at the feet of someone nearly half their age. Especially when there’s a hand on his head, forcing him to keep his head bowed.

Luckily for him, Tony has no such problem.

“Oh man,” Peter breathes, and the fingers in Tony’s hair pull on it experimentally. It’s just a gentle tug, but Tony’s hard and restless already. His hands are resting against the crooks of Peter’s knees, fingers stroking over the soft skin. Lifting his head just a little, Tony mouths at Peter’s cock through his boxers, and it earns him a shaky curse. When Tony glances up, Peter has his head tipped back, his jaw working as he tries to form words. “I really, really like it when you let me do this.”

At any given moment of any given day, Tony has more people than he can care to count, ready to do his bidding. He likes it when he can relax and just let someone else call the shots. He likes it even better when he’s listening to Peter put his authoritative voice on and tell him what to do—and then use his strength to make sure that Tony _does_.

Sucking in a deep, calming breath, Peter looks down at him. His blood is pounding and he’s just as hard as Tony is. Swallowing hard, he pitches his voice deeper than normal and says, “Take my boxers off.”

Tony does, the hand in his hair making sure that he doesn’t get distracted. When Peter is completely naked, his boxers tossed aside, he pulls Tony’s head back and looks into his eyes. 

The next part doesn’t come with a verbal command; it hasn’t, since Peter realised just how much Tony likes his hair being pulled. Instead, Peter’s fingers tighten their grip, guiding Tony closer. His free hand holds his cock ready, and his breath hitches when Tony sticks his tongue out, just barely licking the very tip. 

“Make me come,” Peter whispers, fingers tugging again, and groaning as Tony’s lips wrap around his cock. “Undo the front of your pants. Jerk off. I want to see.” 

Tony happily obeys, letting Peter set the pace. He matches his strokes to Peter’s thrusts, moaning as his head is held with both hands. Neither of them ever last for long like this, far too wound up. Peter comes in Tony’s mouth, gasping and tugging on Tony’s hair even harder. 

“You have the best ideas,” Peter gasps, pulling Tony back to his feet.

“I know.”


End file.
